


valentine hustle

by soundandfury (supercellbreath)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Teachers, M/M, chenris being disgusting and married, dumb chemistry puns, offhand mention of table sex, teacher exploiting his students for unpaid labour in his husbandly quest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-15
Updated: 2017-09-15
Packaged: 2018-12-26 05:01:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12051864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supercellbreath/pseuds/soundandfury
Summary: Like Yifan's about to let his husband lose to Park and Byun.





	valentine hustle

**Author's Note:**

> written for prompt #182!! this ended up a lot more of a mess than i wanted but life comes at you fast, sorry @ my prompter,,, i hope you enjoy this dumb little snippet into the married lives of teachers yifan and jongdae :)

Here’s where it starts: a regular Friday afternoon, the first week back from winter break, with the new year still fresh and the January chill sharp and biting, forcing everyone into thick layers and various states of warmth-seeking at all times. Yifan still remembers roughly where it’d happened - in the school parking lot, Jongdae tucked under his arm and nuzzling into the heat of his side as they make their way over to their humble little silver buggy, parked in between comparatively more sleek and brutish and pretty cars.

The sky is cloudless, a pale blue matching the colour of Jongdae’s sweatervest - a clothing quirk he picked up from vice-principal Junmyeon and keeps up “out of irony”, he claims, like he doesn’t own nine others - and his tiny husband’s sharp cheeks are dusted pink from the cold when he turns up to Yifan and mentions, offhand, that Chanyeol and Baekhyun have started up yet another bet.

“What’s it about this time?” Yifan asks, half-curious, half-amused, and 100% sure that the bet, like most of Chanyeol and Baekhyun’s bargains, is ultimately pointless.

“The annual ‘who can get the most gifts for Valentine’s’ bet,” Jongdae sighs, rolling his eyes. “It’s the fuckin’ start of January, they couldn’t just wait a few more weeks to get into this again. They even dragged Kyungsoo and me into it too, for fuck’s sakes.”

Yifan raises an eyebrow. “How did you two get caught up in their shit?”

Jongdae’s jacket rumples so cutely as he shrugs. “They extended their bets to cover all of the attractive teachers our age - so basically, the four of us, the younger bloods. Not counting TA’s or subs, because we all know the maknaes would beat us all pretty damn handily.”

“They really would,” Yifan agrees easily. Jongin and Sehun, sleepy and bratty substitute teachers though they may be, are two of the youngest and hottest staff members at school, and as such very prominent fixtures in the fantasies of the school population at large. “Why extend to cover outside just the two of them?”

Jongdae pouts a little. “I got. A little peeved when they started yapping on about it. So I kinda snapped that they shouldn’t get cocky, and that even I could match their record. So they decided to take me seriously.” He huffs softly, reaching out and winding one arm around Yifan’s waist as they near their buggy. “Which was dumb, because god knows _I’m_ not the heartthrob teacher in this school, so guess who’s gonna have to cough up enough for a night at the bar come February 14th?”

Yifan frowns, reaching into his pocket to get their car keys, clicking the button and watching the headlights flash and the car beep. “Are you insinuating you aren’t the most attractive teacher in this entire school? I’m actually offended. Where are Chanyeol and Baekhyun. I’m going to need to have words."

“You’re a toothpick, Fan, they’d knock you over in a second,’ Jongdae sighs, butting his head affectionately against Yifan’s shoulder. “Baekhyun knows hapkido, remember? And anyways, it’s fine, I shouldn’t have tried to get involved like that, and it’s just a night at the bar. Not like I’m gonna be sacrificing my vital organs for this or anything.”

“Just your pride,” Yifan hums, brows knotted slightly.

“Just my pride,” Jongdae agrees, sighing softly, letting go of Yifan’s waist and patting his butt affectionately. “It’s really nothing. Don’t sweat it, alright? Let’s just get home.”

“Alright, dear,” Yifan says absently, getting into the front seat.

Like he’s about to let his husband _lose_ to Park and Byun.

  


-

 

The first thing Yifan sees when he walks into the Science staffroom is Jongdae.

Well, the first thing Yifan sees when he goes anywhere is Jongdae, really, but today it’s special - because Jongdae’s got a mountain of colored papers stacked high in a basket on his poor overworked desk, much to the evident amusement of his surrounding coworkers. As Yifan walks closer, he can make out a scattered few boxes and glittering trinkets around the base of the basket, the technicolour variety as blindingly colorful as a barrel of confetti. His husband completes the picture, sitting forlornly in his chair leant back all the way, with his eyes wide and hair ever-so-slightly disturbed from the events of the school day, flyaway strands of bleach-blonde catching the light from the fluorescent lamps overhead and framing his unreadable expression perfectly. Yifan can’t stifle the chuckle that bursts out of him at the sight.

“Why are you _laughing_ ,” Jongdae whines, in lieu of a greeting, tipping his head back in his chair as Yifan comes to stand behind him.

“Because I _love_ you,” Yifan croons, leaning down to plant a kiss on his husband’s brow, earning him a sigh and a half-hearted little upturn of Jongdae’s cat-like lips that Yifan so loves. Their fellow teachers titter and coo around them.

“I love you too,” Jongdae mutters in return, huffing petulantly. “And you’re not helping.”

“So, I see Valentine’s came a little early for you, then?” Yifan hums, casting an eye over the heap of colored paper cards.

“Apparently,” Jongdae groans. “According to Amber, a horde of my Year 10’s and 11’s came by with these while we were out for lunch. And I didn’t come back to the staffroom until after my last class, so now. I’m just stuck with this ridiculous mountain of _love letters.”_

Yifan can’t help the snort that escapes him. The affronted look that Jongdae gives him is absolutely fucking hilarious.

“ _Can you_ \- It’s not funny, Yifan!”

“It’s pretty funny, babe.” Yifan says, giving him a soft kiss to appease his wounded heart.

Jongdae pouts. “Aren’t you supposed to be jealous or something? All these pretty young high schoolers hitting on your husband and confessing their love?”

“Well, I mean,” Yifan shrugs, “they’ve got good taste in men. And why on earth would I be jealous of a bunch of kids who have zero chance with my husband?” He fishes out one pink flower-scented card and cracks it open, cracking a grin at the contents. “Hey, this kid’s got a real talent for poetry. Probably in my class.”

“Oh my god-” Jongdae whines, hitting Yifan’s shoulder, “ _Stop_ that! Some of them are so inappropriate!”

“Let me guess, the boys made dick jokes again and you’re appalled.”

“They’re minors!”

Yifan gives him an incredulous look. “They’re a bunch of fourteen-to-fifteen year olds, babe, you can’t really expect anything else from them. And aren’t you at least a little flattered by all of this love and appreciation for you?”

“Still! Inappropriate! And really gross, eurgh. I mean, some of them are really heartfelt and sweet and all, but. Some of them. You don’t hit on teachers like that-”

“They’re dumb kids, Dae,” Yifan soothes, digging a thumb into the nape of Jongdae’s neck, at the spot he knows gets most knotted up when at work. Jongdae makes a relieved, content little exhale at the contact, melting ever-so-slightly into his touch. “They’re dumb kids with strong affections and who mostly know how to express themselves through bad memes and boner humour. Just bask in the glow.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get that. But this many kids with crushes? Come on. You’re kidding me. They can’t all be that impassioned and in love.”

“Have you gone through all of them? You never know, some of ‘em might just be teacher appreciation cards.” Yifan points out.

“That is a strong possibility,” Jongdae says, “but first of all, teacher appreciation cards for Valentine’s? Really? And second, the perfume I can smell wafting off half of these letters feels like it’s coming from a different direction than what you’re suggesting.”

“People can like nice smells platonically,” Yifan offers, digging the thumb in a little harder, eliciting a soft ‘oof’ from his husband. “Could just be one of your girls using a scented card?”

Jongdae recovers quickly and scoffs, tilting his head back to lean against Yifan’s ribcage and letting out a bark of laughter. “Oh, believe me, one of the letters I picked out was most certainly not any girl’s handwriting, I can assure you.”

“Are we making our poor students all conform to the binary?” Yifan deadpans, bringing one hand up to rest on Jongdae’s head, running his fingers through blonde hair and against his husband’s scalp, in that way that never fails to make Jongdae purr like an actual cat. “I didn’t realise you of all people would compel your students to slot into gender roles,”

“The gender binary can go fuck itself,” Jongdae replies automatically, voice a little dreamy as he blinks out of the relief of his husband’s touch. “I’m just saying - I know what the girls in my class write like, and it’s certainly not that.”

“They could have switched it up just to throw you off the scent?”

Jongdae stops, squints. “That’s actually. A fair argument. Maybe? Or they could’ve mixed-and-matched perfumes and colognes or something. God knows.”

Yifan rolls his eyes, slides one hand down from Jongdae’s hair to the back of his neck, pressing a thumb into a spot at the base of his neck and earning a small choked sound from the younger. “Babe. Chill.”

“Okay, okay, I shouldn’t get so worked up over this, I should just appreciate the love,” Jongdae sighs, leaning back. “If this happens again, Baekhyun ‘n Chanyeol are gonna actually take me _seriously_ , can’t I just stay low and not have to do anything?”

“You could blow those idiots away any day of the week,” Yifan says, leaning down to nuzzle Jongdae’s hair and kiss him softly. “Let’s get all of your tributes and offerings down to the car, milord Mateo.”

“Do _not_ use that name, God,” Jongdae digs one elbow into his side, pouting. He’s always hated people using his Christian name - says it sounds stuffy and weird. Yifan loves it. (And Jongdae secretly loves Yifan saying it.) “Just for that laugh, Mr. Kevin Kris Wu Yifan, you’re gonna be the one carrying all of this back down to the car.”

“ _Oooh_ , you brought out my _first_ name too. I’m _shaking_ in my _boots-_ ”

 _“Li Jiaheng,_ ” Jongdae sings, levelling a lidded glare at him.

“Anything for my darling husband,” Yifan simpers, conceding immediately, gathering the trinkets scattered around and slinging the basket into the crook of his elbow as Jongdae cackles with victory.

 

-

 

The radio station's playing the latest EDM hit, pounding rhythmic bass and high vocals resonating faintly through the car's speakers and mixing with the purr of the engine, all nothing but white noise in Yifan's ears in the face of his husband's clear warm tones and the rustling of paper.  
  
"Let's see this one." Jongdae murmurs, picking out another card from the basket. “Are you made of Copper and Tellurium? Because you’re Cu-Te,” he reads out, a giggle in his voice. “What is this, amateur hour? Did they just pick these off of a Chemistry pick-up lines page on the internet?”  
  
“I’m sure there’s better ones in there,” Yifan says, amused, eyes fixed on the road, one of Jongdae’s warm palms laid over his thigh comfortingly.  
  
“Maybe. You can tell all of these ones are from my class. All of my jokes, backfiring on me in this moment. Oh, this one’s nice. Do you have 11 protons? 'Cause you're Sodium fine!” Jongdae says, cackling a little. “Ahhh, my humour has infected the kids so much, I’m so proud.”  
  
“You seem a lot more at peace with this whole thing now,” Yifan says wryly, glancing over at Jongdae’s curly little smile, lips chapped and perfectly kissable as always.  
  
“Eh, I figured I might as well go with the flow for a bit." Jongdae hums. “Next one - are you made of nickel, cerium, arsenic and sulfur? Because you've got a NiCe AsS!”  
  
Okay, Yifan can’t help the little twitch that escapes him at that one. The only person allowed to compliment Jongdae’s perfect butt is him, damn it. “Am I supposed to be taking notes on how to compliment you from now on?”

“The fact that you weren’t already doing just that just eats away at my poor heart, honey,” Jongdae coos. “Your husband will now only accept flirtations and acts of affection in the form of Chemistry-based puns.”

“Uhhh,” Yifan squints a little, racking his brain for a relevant cheesy pick-up line, “-baby, why don’t I be the enzyme to your substrate and we can catalyze a reaction?”

Jongdae snorts. “That is _passingly_ Chemistry. Barely. You come here and you try to bring Biology, of all accursed sciences, into my sacred house-”

“We’re in a car, ‘Dae, and _I’m_ the one who technically owns this car,” Yifan says, laughing. “Your biology resentment never fails, does it?”

“The single B on my pristine A-Levels results,” Jongdae huffs, pouting, his hand twitching and digging a little into Yifan’s thigh. “A single stupid fucking B, next to all my shiny A-stars.”

“As you’ve told me a million times over the past seven years,” Yifan hums, amused. “You’ve gotta let it go, babe.”

“I’ll let it go when I’m dead,” Jongdae says, sifting through the pile of cards once more. “Ohhhh boy. ‘Didn't you know that chemists do it periodically on the table?’ Wow. Real classy, kiddos.” Jongdae reads out, deadpan. “Whoever sent this one in is a) Obviously Male, and b) Going To Get Detention when I find their dumb ass.”  
  
“It’s just dumb teens being teens, Dae,” Yifan soothes absently, mentally noting to track down all the likely candidates for gross jokes in his class and give them a Talk. “And I mean, considering the places we’ve defiled in our home, you haven’t got any room to talk.”

“....Okay, fair,” Jongdae mumbles. His fingers twitch slightly on Yifan’s thigh. When Yifan glances over at him, his husband’s cheeks are dusted faint red, the tips of his ears and the fine bridge of his nose stained with a rose blush. His thighs are pressed together, his front teeth digging into the swell of his bottom lip. Yifan almost takes his hands off the wheel entirely to reach over and drag him into a kiss.

“You’re so easy,” Yifan drags his eyes back to the road and smiles, lopsided, terribly affectionate, horribly wanting. “So, so easy. That’s all it took to get you worked up? Me mentioning our wild youthful sexcapades? Are you reliving our honeymoon all over again in your head right now?”

“Shut _up_ , Fan, you know it did,” Jongdae mutters, pinching the soft flesh of his tummy to make him wheeze a little, “And you’re the one who married me and planted all these sex memories. Now hurry up and get us home so you can take responsibility ‘n carry out your husbandly duties.”

“And by husbandly duties you mean rechristening our dining table?”

“By husbandly duties I mean cooking us dinner while I sit down and grade assignments,” Jongdae says, grinning at the snort Yifan lets out, “And maybe if we’ve got time after that you can come join me in the bathtub so we can make a few more memories, hm?”

“Last time we tried that we both ended up falling asleep in the tub,” Yifan points out, but presses down on the accelerator a little harder anyways.

  
  
-  


 

The din of the classroom is as loud as ever when Yifan opens the door, the sound reminding Yifan of the Guangzhou wet markets of his childhood, an all-encompassing lively chatter of voices often interspersed with yelling and loud noises. The kids settle down quickly enough once Yifan’s at his desk and has pointedly cleared his throat loud enough for the front seat students to take notice and hush their classmates into a much softer quiet.  
  
“Okay guys,” Yifan intones solemnly. “You’ve all been doing very well. But we’re going to need to step up our game if we want to make sure Mr. Kim wins this Valentine's. Yes, Mark?” he calls out.  
  
The boy in the second row seat puts his hand down, looking faintly puzzled. "Since when was Valentine's a competition, sir?"  
  
"Since always, Mr. Lee, what world do you live in? You've got to keep up with the times, having a week-long vacation is no reason to not be informed," Yifan admonishes, bringing a wave of titters and giggles from the rest of the room and a flustered laugh from Mark. "But for your information, and to remind everyone else - yes, I am still tasking all of you with writing Mr. Kim as many sweet thoughtful cards and love confessions as you can muster. Be anonymous if you wish, or slap your name right on the front in bold print, it doesn't matter. The deadline is Valentine's day, two weeks from now. Whoever writes the cards Mr. Kim and I like the most will get prizes from me. Yes, Yeri?"

“What does Mr. Kim like, then?” the girl asks.

“Chemistry jokes,” Yifan says wryly, bringing a few laughs from some of the students. “As I’m sure those of you in his Chemistry set will know. Poetry, too. Lots of puns and humour, and if you can also manage to be sincere and heartfelt and expressive then that’ll be a winner. There’s really no limit to what you can do with your cards besides keeping it PG-13, so go wild, kids.”  
  
“And to the wise guys leaving dirty jokes in their letters,” Yifan says, side-eyeing the gang of troublemakers clumped together in the far corner of the classroom, giggling away. “Tone it down and you’ll get to keep that extra credit, hm? While my husband’s ass is, in fact, very fine, you guys don’t get to tell him that, even if you did do it through the periodic table.”

“ _Busted_ ,” one of the kids elbows the other, hissing with a manic sparkle in his eyes, giggling uncontrollably as the guilty party flushes and laughs. Yifan rolls his eyes.

“Keep your laughs in, Johnny, and try focusing that energy on your upcoming essay. Okay, everyone, now that the announcement’s out of the way, everyone, crack open Lord of the Flies to chapter five.”

**Author's Note:**

> this was intended to be much longer than it ended up being but honestly, do you Really wanna read 3k of yifan bribing all his colleagues into his plotting? bc real life made sure i wasn't up for writing it lmao


End file.
